


Armageddon, Defeated

by TaraTargaryen



Series: The Nuclear Option [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Adventure, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Drinking, F/M, Fate, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Slow Burn, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraTargaryen/pseuds/TaraTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Initiate Adams is promoted to Knight, and teams up with Paladin Danse to recover a nuclear arsenal at Fort Strong. A battle-weary Danse is called to Maxson's office late at night to talk about the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armageddon, Defeated

**Author's Note:**

> I've struggled a bit with this one. Getting the intensity of the battle right is important to me and I rewrote some scenes over and over again. I love getting inside my character's heads, I want you, the reader, to think about what you've seen and then I want to show you what's actually going on behind those words and expressions. Especially Danse, because even though he doesn't realize it he is already incredibly important to the Sole Survivor. 
> 
> The title, Armageddon, Defeated, is actually played off something Danse says in game that I thought sounded kinda fitting. I don't know, I have an annoying habit of changing titles days later but who knows, maybe it will stick if the readers like it. 
> 
> The end notes contain spoilers for this section, so don't skip ahead if you like surprises.

"No, I'm not leaving without her."  

The vertibird pilot rolled his eyes and switched off the engines. "I don't like being out here. We're sitting ducks. It's been twenty four hours, Paladin, there's no sign of your new recruit and Lancer-Captain Kells is getting impatient." 

"I don't like your tone, Knight-Captain. Don't think I won't be including that in my report to Elder Maxson," Danse snapped, teeth on edge.  

The pilot snapped his elbow up in a salute, struggling to conceal his deepening scowl. "My apologies, Paladin Danse. My unit is happy to wait another twenty four hours before reassignment." His expression made it clear he was happy to do no such thing, but Danse accepted the apology. 

"Very well. I'm certain we won't be that long." He scanned the horizon, not sure if he really believed she would show up. He headed back inside the police station to assist with the refurnishing effort and get some water. The humidity was _punishing_ today.  

 

He sat at his desk, feeling irritable, with the fan on. The internal cooling system of his power armor had been shot since Arc-Jet and he resolved to have Ingram look at it as soon as he was back aboard the Prydwen.  

"Paladin Danse?" Scribe Haylen interrupted his thoughts. 

"What is it, Scribe?" He asked urgently. 

"Initiate Adams is outside. I recognized her dog, anyway." 

Wordlessly, he stood up as the doors opened. She didn't burst through them casually like she normally did, although Dogmeat bounded in, headbutting Knight Rhys' knees for petting. She stepped in, cautiously. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and ringed in deep, purple bruises. Her once-taut Brotherhood flight suit sagged dramatically, indicating heavy weight loss and possible malnutrition. Her shiny copper hair had been hacked off with what looked like a blunt butter knife, and what remained lay askew all over her head. There was a hole in the right shoulder of her suit and a stained bandage tied around it, and the way she favored her left arm suggested she'd been shot recently. Danse was aghast. Adams looked like complete shit, but her jaw was set and her back was still straight. The wasteland hadn't beaten her yet.  

 

"Paladin Danse." She croaked.  

He swallowed. "I have been ordered to report to the Prydwen, and you've been ordered to accompany me."  

"I'm assuming that's your airship?" Danse read accusation in her tone. 

"Sure is. Elder Maxson has come to the conclusion from reading my reports that the Institute is the enemy of the Brotherhood of Steel. We're here to wage war." Danse watched Adams' reaction closely. To his relief, the corners of her lips turned up wryly. 

"It's going to be a short war."  

He felt the ghost of a grin on his face. "That's the plan."  

They headed up to the roof together. Danse was burning with curiosity. _What had she seen? What had she done? Had she found her family? Did that explain the_ _dishevel_ _ed_ _condition she was currently in?_ He had so many questions, but he ignored them for now. The Prydwen had returned to the Commonwealth. He was going home. That was all that mattered now.  

 

He boarded the vertibird, and gave Adams a hand up. The Knight-Captain glared at him as he buckled himself in, while the co-pilot let Adams take the minigun. Her posture relaxed a little as she gazed out over the Commonwealth, and her face softened. "Changes your whole perspective on things, doesn't it?" He said into her ear. Adams nodded. "There's nothing like it. Wait until we're aboard the Prydwen. You'll need to stay behind me. And answer all of Lancer-Captain Kells' questions."  

She looked through the scope of the minigun, searching for non-present targets, and fiddled with the controls. She certainly knew how to use one, he'd seen that first hand. A cool up-draught caught him on the chin and he relaxed. It was hard, after everything he'd seen and done in the Commonwealth. He had already booked a medical consultation with Knight-Captain Cade, and he would do his best to get a handle on his PTSD. He had a feeling that just spending a night in his private quarters, with the soothing thrum of the steel zeppelin enveloping him in the darkness would do wonders for his psyche. The vertibird docked on to the Prydwen and Initiate Adams slid herself off carefully. Her eyes were dull as she took in their surroundings, a cursory check for an exit strategy. Danse worried about her. The last thing he needed was a reprimand for his lack of judgment in taking on a new recruit.   

 

"Paladin Danse." Lancer-Captain Kells barked. 

"Reporting for duty, sir." Danse saluted his superior officer, who returned the gesture formally. 

"Stand down soldier. You've been dismissed for downtime." Kells' grinned, he obviously had something to do with that. "Now, am I to believe you're our new initiate?" Kells looked down his nose at Adams, and Danse caught his breath.  

"Yes, sir." Adams straightened her back and eyed the senior officer respectfully. Danse quietly breathed out a sigh of relief, giving her what he thought was an apologetic look over his shoulder. 

"You don't look like much of a soldier." The Lancer-Captain replied disdainfully and Danse almost choked as he walked away. Kells was going to put his initiate through the ringer, he _knew_ it. Before this morning he would have said she'd be fine, but now he had no idea if she'd be able to get through Kells' rigorous questioning. He headed for the workshop, and decompressed out of his power armor before jogging back to the medical office. 

"Ah, Paladin Danse. Good to see you." Knight-Captain Cade saluted him and shook his hand, putting him instantly at ease. "Scribe Haylen has already sent me her report," Cade started disapprovingly. 

Danse shrugged out of his flight suit, exposing himself to Cade's examination. "It's not easy to rest in the field." 

"I know. And I have read your field report, believe me. What you faced out there was extremely challenging, even for a senior Paladin, and I'm sure none of it weighs lightly on your shoulders." 

"That's a correct assumption, Cade." Danse frowned. 

"Still, you must be incredibly proud of your new recruit." The older man grinned. "She's being promoted to knight downstairs right now." 

 

Danse paused, absorbing the new information as the Knight-Captain prodded at his wounds, new and old. "I'm... pleased to hear that."  

"Well your physical assessment is perfect, as always. Your mental evaluation will have to wait, I'm afraid. I'm clearing you to perform your duties at Fort Strong." Cade tucked the bell on his stethoscope into his fatigues. 

"Maxson wants to take Fort Strong?" Danse replied urgently, his heart lifting. _Finally. A chance to avenge Knight-Sergeant Dawes, and get my own back._  

Cade nodded. "The super mutants are sitting on a stockpile of Fat Man shells, and Elder Maxson wants Knight Adams to lead the assault. He wants to see first hand if she's as capable as you say. After I clear her for duty, of course." He grinned. "Now for God's sake, go shower and put on a clean uniform." He laughed, saluting again. "Ad victoriam, Paladin." 

Instead, Danse headed back to the Command Deck, catching the tail end of Adams' promotion ceremony. The new Knights were saluted by Elder Maxson and returned the gesture. Adams' fist snapped to her heart like she'd been born doing it and if Danse had thought himself capable of shedding a tear, he might have. As the six other knights left the Command Deck and headed for the barracks, Knight Adams remained. Arthur's eyes met Danse's and he nodded appreciatively, Danse thought, and turned away. Adams didn't turn around, only addressing the Elder. Finally, Danse headed for the showers. 

 

Clean from the showers, in a new, appropriately fitted uniform, Knight Adams reported to the mess where Danse was eating. "There you are. How did it go with Elder Maxson?" He pushed an unopened MRE towards her.  

"Ah, military rations." She pursed her lips, tearing open the packet.  

"Is there a problem?" Danse raised an eyebrow. 

"No sir." She maintained eye-contact as she took the first bite. "He's a very dedicated man," She said finally, thoughtfully. "It sounds like he stands behind everything he says."  

"Of course he does. How could he afford not to? I just hope you appreciate how much of a chance I'm taking, bringing you into the fold this quickly. Not to put to fine of a point on it, but if you screw up, we go down together." 

She looked down at her meal, downcast. Danse cursed at himself internally, he hadn't meant to sound so cold.  

"I won’t let you down Danse. I promise." She sounded almost timid, not at all the woman who covered him at Arc-Jet Systems. 

He put down his fork. "What happened to you out there? You were gone for days and you came back -" 

"Looking like shit?" Adams replied darkly, as though she'd read his mind. 

" _Harrowed._ " Danse finished, gritting his teeth.  

"I spent a week and a half, tracking down the man who murdered my husband, with nothing more to go on than a few cold stogies and some bloody rags. Through Boston, through the wasteland, and when I found him, I put two rounds in his cybernetically enhanced head. He was barely human." 

 

Danse had no words, but he found rations hard to eat with a dry mouth. They finished their meal in silence.  

"I'm sorry I burdened you with my problems, Paladin." Adams told him humbly, when she was done. "You've done so much for me. I'm honored and proud to be a part of the Brotherhood of Steel." 

Danse felt suddenly guilty. He wished he knew how to handle his own discomfort better. As her sponsor, he should have been able to comfort her, provide words of reassurance, and here she was, reassuring him instead. _I would have done the same in your shoes. I did, a long time ago_ _, for an old friend. It might have been hard but it was the right thing to do and I have never regretted it, not even once._  "In order to be an effective part of the team, you need to learn your way around this ship and get to know its crew. As your sponsor, I'd recommend taking me along with you." He stood up from the table, and Adams did the same. 

"Sounds good. Let's go," she grinned, a hint of her old spark back.  

Danse turned away. "Outstanding." 

Proctor Ingram was working on Danse's personal suit of power armor when they reached her. She eyed Adams up and down. "So. You're the new recruit I've heard so much about. Not quite what I was expecting." 

"What were you expecting?" Adams folded her arms across her chest, guarded. 

Proctor Ingram smirked. "The last batch of recruits we took on were wastelanders. Dirty, beaten up and looking for a hand-out. They were desperate and looking for an easy way out. You look like you're here for a reason." Danse felt surprisingly satisfied with Proctor Ingram's assessment. "Anyway, since you came all the way up here to meet me, we may as well get this over with." She walked the pair over to an older T-60b suit. It bore the faded insignia of a Brotherhood knight. "My name is Ingram, and this lovely little grease pit is where you'll usually find me. If your power armor is too tight in the crotch, the Prydwen is about to crash into the ground or a robot's gone haywire, you come see me." 

 

"Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate." Adams replied appreciatively.  

"Knight, I'm in charge of the whole damn buffet." Ingram snorted. "So this is a pretty decent T60 suit. The left leg actuator is a bit sticky but it'll keep creeps off you, that's for sure. Bay 3 is reserved for Paladin Danse's squad, which, correct me if I'm wrong, you are the newest member of." She sighed dramatically. "There isn't a day that goes by on this tub without five or six things breaking down, and since I'm stuck in this rig I'm not quite as spry as I used to be. The work tends to pile up." 

"I'm more than happy to take care of my own suit, and anything else you need, Proctor. I think you're getting around pretty well, I hardly noticed."  

Ingram looked down at her missing legs. "Thank you, Knight. It's been an adjustment, let me tell you that. Anyway, you're welcome to use the workshop whenever you need it. I may just take you up on your offer if you turn out to be any good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work."  

Adams began a cursory inspection of her power armor. Danse made a beeline for Ingram.  

"You've made short work of your cooling system, Danse." She scowled. "I had to replace it. Everything else aside, I should have this ready to go back out this afternoon. Maxson made it explicitly clear how important this is."  

"Thank you, Proctor, I appreciate it. But I wanted to ask you what you think of Adams." Danse told her under his breath, one eye on Adams on the other side of the workshop. 

"She looks capable. I didn't realize you liked redheads or I might have made a pass at you myself, back in the day." Ingram snorted with suppressed laughter. 

"I beg your pardon?" Danse was taken aback. 

"Nothing, Paladin. I read your reports, is all. You've got nothing to worry about with Adams, but I'd be worried about Proctor Teagan getting any ideas into that thick head of his, if I were you. You know what he's like." She grinned suggestively. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Danse huffed.  

 

Adams appeared at his elbow. "Ready to continue, Paladin." 

"Outstanding." He replied irritably. They headed for ordnance. 

"Step forward Knight. Even though they've locked me in this blasted cage, I promise I won't bite." Teagan laughed at his own humor, earning a smile from Adams. Danse felt his mood souring.   

"Looks uncomfortable in there," Adams grinned, eyeing the heavily modified MIRV Fat Man on the wall behind the proctor.  

"It's not that bad," Teagan's eyes glinted mischievously, as they glanced briefly off Adams' chest. Danse cracked his knuckles loudly. Teagan coughed. "This is the stowage depot. I, as you've probably already guessed, am the quartermaster, Proctor Teagan." He announced with a flourish. "The powers that be have me locked in here so I can keep an eye on the Brotherhood's valuables. If you need to stock up on supplies before you head out on a mission, this is the place to buy them."  

"Good to know," Adams replied, eyes still glued to the MIRV.  

"Well, I'm glad you're so agreeable. I've gotten some nasty looks from recruits who didn't realize they had to pay for their own equipment."  

Adams laughed. "I'll bet." She smiled toothily at the Proctor. 

"The good news is by having a constant flow of caps I'm able to buy whatever you bring me. I'm mostly interested in weapons, but I'll take anything useful." He leaned forward, speaking in hushed tones. "If you find any rare bottles of _liquid courage_ out there, bring them to me first. I'll give you the best deal on them." He winked. "And if you're looking to make a few caps on the side, I might also have some extra work for you."  

"I'll keep that in mind," Adams tapped her nose. Teagan let out a loud, hearty laugh that echoed through the depot.  

"Knight, if you ever need _anything_ , guns, mods, ammo, you just let me know." 

"Absolutely, Proctor Teagan." She grinned again, and headed for the hallway. Danse watched Teagan watching Adams' ass.  

"You're a lucky man, Danse!" Teagan dusted off his hands. "Don't let anything happen to that one." He grinned up at the Paladin. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Danse replied dryly, heading off after the newly-minted knight. 

 

"He seems friendly." Adams mentioned contentedly as they headed for the intelligence office.  

"Don't get any ideas, Knight. Your conduct on the Prydwen will be monitored at all times. Fraternization is prohibited in the field." He scowled. 

"My God, Paladin!" Adams paused, shocked. "Get your mind out of the gutter!"  

Danse bit back a childish retort and sighed; exhausted. "My apologies, Knight. I think I need a decent night's sleep."  

Adams relaxed. "After that outburst I am making it my personal mission to see that you get one." She frowned. "Proctor Teagan was just being friendly and I find that casual banter tends to improve merchant prices, if you'll excuse me. I have no intention of _fraternizing_ with anyone on this ship -"

"Ah good, you're finally here. Just set the books down anywhere. I'll get to them as soon as I can." Proctor Quinlan interrupted Adams' rant, waving them away without looking up from his work. Danse cleared his throat authoritatively. 

"What are you doing with all these books?" Adams looked around the office, eyes wide. 

Quinlan huffed impatiently. "I suppose I could stop working for a moment to address your question." He looked up. "Since it's obvious that you aren't who I was expecting would you mind telling me why you're here?"  

"Maxson wanted me to meet the crew and you were next on my list," Adams was taken aback by Quinlan's attitude. Danse, used to it, left her to the mirelurks.  

"Ah, I see. You must be the new recruit described in Paladin Danse's reports. Under normal circumstances I'd provide you with proper orientation of my department, however I'm woefully behind setting up research patrols and getting bombarded with requests for technical documentation. I'm unfortunately lacking the personnel needed to get the job done. Medical records, scientific journals, weapon schematics, if you come across any of it out there in the field it is imperative that you bring them to me. I'll make sure you are reasonably compensated for your efforts." 

"Of course, Proctor." Adams replied respectfully.  

Quinlan pushed his glasses up his nose and saluted. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Knight." He turned back to his work.  

 

Danse lead Adams across the hall to the medical office. "Glad you finally stopped by, soldier. Are you ready for your medical exam?" Cade held up a clipboard expectantly. 

Adams took a seat on the stretcher, while Danse leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Sure am. Go right ahead." She chirped, unzipping her flight suit to the waist and wriggling her arms out. Cade whipped out a fresh needle and began extracting a blood sample. Adams didn't even wince.  

"Alright, I'm going to ask you a series of medical-related questions and I'd like you to answer them to the best of your ability." He watched the vial fill up with crimson liquid. "As a child, were you ever exposed to radiation for an extended period of time?" 

"Would the Vault-Tec screening have picked that up?" Adams questioned.  

Cade's eyes widened. "Vault-Tec -!?" He raced back through his notes, jaw dropping. "You were a _vault dweller?_ " He licked his thumb, peeling away papers underneath it. "My God... You've been on cryo since 2077... You were alive before the War." He looked up, shock in his eyes.

Danse's jaw dropped. "You're over two hundred and ten years old." He looked down at the knight. 

She shrugged. "You never asked."

"I'm your commanding officer. When you said you were a vault dweller I believed you. Leaving out the part about having been frozen in cryogenic stasis for over two hundred years is a lie of omission, Adams." Danse was seething.

"How was it relevant? Did I not do a good enough job of covering your ass at Arc-Jet Systems? Did I not show up in the nick of time to eliminate the last of those ghouls at Cambridge? I told you I was fresh out of the vault. Remind me what part of that was lie?" 

Cade stepped between them before Danse could retort. "Knight Adams is right, Danse. The information wasn't pertinent to the mission. Would you even have believed her, if she told you?" The Knight-Captain's expression was serious. 

Danse took a moment to think about it. "Of course I wouldn't have believed it." He grumbled. Adams sniffed, slipping her legs out of her flight suit so the medic could examine the laser burns on her thigh. Danse shook his head, absorbing her age. She barely looked a day over thirty. He thought about her perfect teeth; her unblemished, almost-porcelain skin. He looked at her healthy, shiny hair. It just made _sense_ , and that almost made it harder to believe.

Cade finished his assessment of her wounds, and looked down at Knight Adams' bemused face. "Well, you're probably healthier than anyone else on board. Anyway, sorry I missed that in your records. Just going down the list of questions, I'm sure you understand." They shared a small chuckle. "Okay, second question. Have you ever had or come in contact with a person confirmed to be carrying a communicable disease?" 

"I've never been seriously sick in my life," Adams confirmed, ignoring Danse's glowering at her. 

"Good, good. Third question, and please, answer honestly. Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?" 

"God no, never." It was Adams' turn to be aghast. "That _happens_?" She added, horrified. 

"I find the practice highly distasteful myself." The Knight-Captain scribbled something down in his notes.  

"Lastly, would you have any problem pulling the trigger on an enemy of the Brotherhood, whether they human, formerly human, or machine?" Both Cade and Danse looked down at Adams sternly.  

"Nope. No problem whatsoever." She replied confidently. Both men sighed with relief.  

"Excellent. You'll fit in quite well around here, I should think. I see no reason to prevent you from beginning your duties immediately. If you ever need medical assistance, you let me know." 

 

Danse guided Adams back to the flight deck, still slightly stinging over Adams' age. "Time for your first assignment, soldier." Adams had impressed all of the Proctors, which Danse would never have believed if he hadn't witnessed it personally. It might have been a Brotherhood first. He found himself eager to support her in taking Fort Strong. They met Maxson on the rear dock, and Adams addressed him. 

"Now that you've familiarized yourself with the Prydwen's crew, are you ready for your next assignment, sister?"  

"Yes, Elder."  

"Good. Let's get right to it then, shall we? Take a look over there." Danse looked over the ocean to where Maxson was pointing, at Fort Strong. "That's Fort Strong, and its infested with super mutants. Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach. To make matters worse, they're sitting on top of a massive stockpile of Fat Man shells we could use in our campaign. I want you to head over there, wipe out everything that moves and secure that stockpile. Understood?" Maxson growled at her.  

She stood her ground. "Consider it done." Danse hid a smirk. Sometimes, Adams just said exactly what he wanted to hear and all the clouds of doubt in his mind vanished. Pride stirred in his chest, spreading all the way up to his heart. He wasn't used to it; but it felt good.  

"Look, I realize you're eager to take the fight to the Institute, but it'll have to wait. The Brotherhood cannot allow those abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips." Maxson added seriously. 

"It'll be a pleasure to exterminate that mutant filth." Danse smiled grimly.  

"We have a vertibird on standby, prepped for combat, fully armed and ready to depart. Use it to carry a message to Fort Strong and use it to wipe those dirty mutants from the face of the Earth. Dismissed." The Elder saluted them both, fire and determination in his cold, clear eyes. They repeated the gesture and headed inside to the workshop to pick up their power armor.

Back on the flight deck, Danse gave Adams a leg up into the vertibird. The familiar scent of her hair wafted over him, distracting him momentarily. _Must be a heat-of-the-moment thing,_ he decided. He only noticed it during or after high-intensity situations. She put on her helmet and straddled the minigun on the deck lovingly, adjusting the settings as the vertibird _whir_ red to life. "Welcome aboard, squad Gladius," the pilot announced. "Instruments are green and we're cleared for release." The vertibird was released from the dock. The 'bird bee-lined around the airport control tower and flew up the coast, towards the fort. "Target acquired," the pilot announced. "I'll try to keep it in your sights." Danse squinted in his power armor. He made out the lumbering mass of a behemoth just ahead of them. Adams swiveled in her seat, firing up the minigun. Blood began splattering the pavement as the beast roared a challenge, hurling chunks of debris the size of Adams at the vertibird. Hard, maniacal laughter rang in Danse's ears, and he realized it belonged to Adams. She laughed like a madwoman as she brought the creature down, and he felt mildly awed. This he would do for Dawes, and Keane and Worwick and Brach; and the fallen members of Recon Squad Artemis. He loaded his laser rifle. It would be a battle for the history books.  

 

"Primary target down," Danse could barely hear the pilot over the pounding of blood in his ears. "Look at that thing bleed. I'm gonna find a place to set her down and then high-tail it back to the Prydwen for repairs." The 'bird landed inside the gates, and Adams vaulted herself over the minigun, rolling out onto the dirt. Danse jumped out behind her, taking up arms over her shoulders as they shot at the mutants that began to swarm. " _Fuckers,_ " he heard Adams mutter over the intercom. She had pulse 'nades and began tossing them into the frothing crowd. Danse popped heads like popcorn, intensely satisfied by every drop of super mutant blood he spilled. _For Dawes; for Keane;_ _for_ _Worwick_ _;_ _for_ _Brach_ _;_ he told himself each time he made a kill. _For Dawes; for Keane;_ _for_ _Worwick_ _;_ _for_ _Brach_ _._ He was barely sweating by the time they reached the fortification doors. Ingram had done an unbelievable job on his cooling system. They breached the doors, one boot to one door each, and stepped into the building. "Watch your step," Danse warned Adams. "There's quite a bit of debris in here."  

" **A NOISE?** " The lumbering brutes had no idea how to be stealthy, Danse rolled his eyes. " **EARS PLAY TRICKS ON ME AGAIN.** " The mutant decided, as Danse and Adams surveyed the foyer. The stairs were completely crushed. Two narrow hallways were their options, one to the left, one to the right. Adams motioned for them to take the left, and Danse felt the wisdom of her decision not to split up. He took her back, listening for mutants. " **SOMEONE THERE?** " They were rewarded with a loud rumble. " **FOUND YOU!** " Laser rifles lit up the compound.  

"FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!" Danse roared back.  

Adams reeled. "Right in my ear!" She hissed, missing a shot. She took down her target with renewed determination. They stood, puffing, in a room full of green corpses and began looting ammo. It was a mess hall of sorts, Danse decided, looking at the tables, littered with eating utensils and mold. He looked over at the knight just in time to see her slip a package of military-grade duct tape into her duffle.  

"Why are you bothering with that junk?" He growled. 

She hefted her gun. "See this?" 

" _What have you done to Righteous Authority?!_ " He was stunned. He took his old gun off her, examining it slowly. Adams had added a recon scope; the barrel had been lengthened way beyond a standard model and the ammunition capacity had been expanded well past Danse's hopes and dreams. "It's _beautiful,_ " he exhaled, wiping the ashy residue off the end of the barrel reverently.  

 

"This useless junk as you called it, is responsible for more than half of those improvements," Adams sniffed.  

"I stand corrected." Danse replied humbly.  

" **WHAT? SCARED ALREADY?** " His ears snapped towards the sound. A super mutant was overturning desks in the next room – or maybe just walking. Adams waved her fingers towards the noise and Danse followed, passing Righteous Authority back. " **I HEAR SOMETHING.** "  

"So do I," Adams muttered, and rounded the corner, firing immediately. Danse heard the screech of greenskins and launched himself into the action. A missile hit Adams square in the chest, launching her backwards. Danse growled and took the beast down immediately as she stumbled to her feet.  

"Alright, Knight?" He asked.  

Adams pulled out a snub-nosed .44 and emptied a clip in the offending mutant's skull, and blood pooled across the floor towards Danse. She growled, flicking at the dent in her armor. They approached a locked door and Danse raised a boot, but Adams waived him off, pulling a pin and a screwdriver out of her bag. She took a knee and began working the lock, her heavy gauntlets getting in the way a little. Within a minute, the lock clicked open, and the pair wandered inside.  

"Well, they don't teach that at the Academy." He told her, impressed. 

"Maybe they should," she replied. A Fat Man shell stood on a display case in the corner of the office they had barged in to. Adams cradled it lovingly. "Hello, baby." She cooed at it.  

"There has to be more," Danse shook his head. "That can't be it."  

Adams sat down at the desk, and began tapping away at the terminal. "Oh look, a facility map," she announced, bored. "We need to take the elevator down. Come on." She grasped his forearm with her gauntlet, and the slight pressure reminded him of her soft hands caressing his cheek as she pulled his helmet off at Arc-Jet. He swallowed, and followed her down the hallway. 

 

They rode the elevator down in anticipatory silence. They exited into a second foyer, with an office off to one side and another corridor off to the other. "There's quite a bit of trash in here," Danse remarked. "Searching through it could prove beneficial." He and Adams wandered through the facility, until they heard it.  

" **Wish a bucket-head would show up,** " A super mutant rumbled, unusually quiet. " **I'd rip his legs clean off.** " Another mutant murmured in agreement. Danse exited the corridor onto a balcony. Adams was already leaning over, aiming her .50 cal through the scope.  

"Geiger is going crazy on my suit," Danse muttered into the interface. 

"Mine too," Adams agreed. "I can't get a decent shot. We need to go down, and get closer." They crept down the stairs. Without warning, two super mutant hounds bounded out of the darkness. Danse felt needle-sharp jaws clamp around his leg. Adams put a bullet in its head as he took out the second one behind her. The noise attracted several more mutants and the enclosed room echoed with gunfire and heavy grunts.  

"AD VICTORIAM." The pair yelled, almost in unison, adding laser rifle shots to the raucous. A super mutant clocked him on the back of the head with a steel beam, and Danse reeled, hearing the echo bounce around his skull, rattling his brain. He took a knee, gasping, as Adams launched herself over his shoulders, head butting the creature violently. She was rewarded with howls of pain and reduced the beast into another ashy pile with Righteous Authority while Danse regained his composure and covered her with live fire. At last, they were alone again. She held out her gauntlet, helping lift him to his feet.  

"Are you alright, sir?" 

"I'm sure I'll be fine," he replied shortly.

 

Danse looked grimly down at the floor, littered with corpses. He put his boot to the head of one of the super mutants, relishing the _crunch_ as he crushed it. "Look at this place. You must hate these mutants as much as I do,"  

"Absolutely. Wiping them out was a _pleasure._ " The edge in Adams voice could have cut glass.

"I wish all of mankind shared your sentiment." Danse lamented. "These monstrosities are just another example of man blindly taking a step forward, only to wind up stumbling two steps back. I've been fighting for years, trying to put a stop to this madness and just when I thought we were getting the upper hand, along come the synths. I've seen what these super mutants do to people. Can you imagine what the synths would do to us if they ever got the upper hand? It would be Armageddon, repeated, and maybe the end of everything that we hold dear."  

Adams removed her helmet, tucking it under her arm. Her face was as impassive as ever. _She's already lost everything she holds dear,_ Danse suddenly remembered. But he'd watched her bring down these mutants with relish, and he'd heard her crazy laughter as she gunned down that behemoth from the air. _Maybe she is Brotherhood material,_ he decided. He certainly trusted her to have his back in a fight.  

Danse sighed heavily. "I don't mean to bore you with my rhetoric." He apologized. "I just want you to understand how important these missions are." 

"You don't bore me," she gave him a gentle smile. "Far from it. I understand, Paladin." Her eyes told him she was being honest.  

"Anyway, that's enough of that. What's important here is that you got the job done and secured these warheads. You should head back up to the Prydwen and talk to Maxson. I'm sure he will want a debriefing as soon as possible." 

"Yes sir. But don't forget about getting that good night's sleep tonight," She reminded him. He _had_ forgotten.  

He gave her a half-hearted grin. "I'll do my best, Knight. Dismissed." She walked away, and he exhaled again. He'd come so close to telling her about Cutler. He had no idea why he even wanted to talk about him, but it had been so long since he thought someone would give a damn. Mostly he just wanted to let her know he'd lost someone, too. That she wasn't alone, and that she didn't have to face the Commonwealth herself. He was going to be by her side every inch of the way, if she let him. He heard the elevator doors close. _The Institute has no idea what’s in store for them_ , he thought. _The Brotherhood of Steel is coming, and we're ready for a fight._   

 

It was late when Elder Maxson called him into his quarters, which doubled as an office and a private boardroom in the confined spaces of the Prydwen. "Paladin Danse." Maxson was seated at the head of his table. Danse sat, exhausted. "Your recruit did well today." He announced appreciatively. The older man nodded wearily, his holotags clinking around his neck. "In fact, she far exceeded my expectations. I haven't seen carnage like that since Sarah led the Lyons' Pride." Maxson's voice was suddenly soft, and Danse realized he'd been drinking. _Well that makes two of us._   

"Do you still think of her, Arthur?" He asked, half curious. 

"Of course. I idolized Sarah, as a child." He chuckled, ghosts of memories flickering across his face. "She took me out when I was ten, and taught me how to shoot. I took down my first super mutant that day."  

"Elder Lyons was furious." Danse remembered. 

"Owyn wasn't a hard man; regrettably. I loved him like a father though. I loved them both." Arthur poured two more drinks, sliding one down the table. "And they both died. All I had left was the Brotherhood, and Maggie May Finch." 

"The Lone Wanderer. Paladin Finch was something else, wasn't she?" Danse hadn't thought about _Little Miss Vault One-Oh-One_ in years. Maxson looked suddenly young. It was easy for Danse to forget the elder was only twenty years old. The beard he grew hid his age well, but not his experience. He deserved every accolade he had, and more.  

"A vault dweller, alone against the wasteland, searching for a lost relative. Aiding the Brotherhood in taking down the Enclave." Arthur looked at Danse dead on, empty-eyed.  

Danse nodded, staring into his drink. "I see where this is going." 

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think you do. Four years, and over four hundred miles and the ghost of the last woman I loved is still haunting me." 

"You did everything you could."  

"Clearly not, Danse, because if I had she would be here. Probably right where you're sitting; telling me I'm the best man for the job, making the right decisions." He ran his hands through his hair, and poured another drink. "She's the reason the Outcasts rejoined us, not me. Maggie did all that. She was good with the politics... I just wanted to fight. Anything to get out of the office."  

 

Maxson's head sunk into his hands. "You haven't spoken about her since the funeral." Danse took a sip of whiskey, savoring it, wondering what on Earth he could say to Maxson. _Four years ago there was nothing you could say,_ he told himself. _And four years later, there's still nothing you can say._

"Because I regret it." The young man snapped. 

"Regret burying her?" Danse was confused. 

"No. I regret... I regret ordering you to execute Fawkes." 

Danse clenched his teeth, slamming his glass against the table. "Fawkes was a super mutant, Arthur. An abomina-" 

"I know how you feel about super mutants, Paladin. But Fawkes was her friend. He protected her. He was violent and ferocious but he took on the Enclave for Maggie because she saved his life."  

"It was _wrong._ " He argued.  

"It _doesn't matter_." Arthur brought his fist down, bloodshot eyes burning holes in Danse's. "Fawkes roamed around the Citadel, never hurting anyone. Never heard a peep out of him, except when Maggie was with him. There wasn't a single human being alive she trusted more than Fawkes and I had you kill him, because he failed. I never told you how Shepherd made Fawkes watch while he tore Maggie apart, limb from limb. By the time we got there he'd almost lost his mind, and I turned him loose into the wasteland. When he showed up at the Citadel the day we buried her, to tell me how she died, you put a bullet in his head. Because _I asked you to_." Arthur's voice broke. "I disappointed her. It would have broken her heart." 

Danse had nothing to say to that. 

"I know how you feel about super mutants." He repeated. "After Cutler and Shepherd, we both have a right to feel that way. But Fawkes never acted like a super mutant. He deserved my mercy." He trailed off. "Knight Adams reminds me of her. Her attitude, her desperation... Maggie hunted her father across the wastelands and he still ended up dead. It kept her awake at night, I used to have to talk her into coming back to bed." He chuckled darkly. "She would have been a ferocious mother. Like a deathclaw." He scratched at the scar on his face absently, his cool grey eyes miles away. He looked up, as if suddenly remembering Danse was there. "I'm sorry to have kept you up." He apologized respectfully. 

Danse waved him off. "I wasn't sleeping anyway. If you had something important on your mind I'm glad I was here to fulfill that duty for you, sir." 

 

" _Sir._ " Maxson snorted. "I remember when we were friends." He stood up from the table, heading for his bed. "Just be there for her." The elder yawned. "When Adams loses everything, and with the luck of the wastes she probably will, you'll be the one that has to pick up the pieces. Don't make my mistakes, Paladin." 

"Of course, sir." Danse replied stiffly, closing the door behind him.

Instead of returning to his quarters, he headed for the barracks on the mid-deck. Adams was sleeping heavily, drool trailing from her mouth to her pillow. Danse _hmph_ ed quietly. She stirred suddenly, a fist wiping sweaty hair off her forehead. Danse leaned forward, trying to see what was clutched her hand. A faded yellow holotape. _Hi, honey!_  was scrawled across the label, he could barely make it out between her fingers.

 _Like a deathclaw,_ Arthur's voice echoed in his head. _You'll be the one that has to pick up the pieces._

Suddenly, Danse didn't mind. He headed back to his quarters, typing out a message for Adams' interface. He heard her PipBoy _blip_ softly behind him, and felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. He had some revelations of his own; things that needed to be said.

 _And you will,_ Adams voice popped into his head unexpectedly. _I'll listen, and I'll understand._  

**Author's Note:**

> I gave Maxson a bit of my own backstory, involving my Fallout 3 OC Maggie May Finch (named Finch in honor of To Kill a Mockingbird, because I adore Scout and Atticus and I loved that book). Paladin Finch had a big in with the Brotherhood, and I know there's an age gap of six years (in the canon the Lone Wanderer is 16 and Maxson is 10) but they grew up and went through so much together. I like to think she played an important role in Arthur becoming the man he is and it gave ME some damn closure, so there's that. 
> 
> Regarding Shepherd, I don't know if any of you have read the canon but he's the super mutant leader that Maxson defeated when he was made Elder. I don't quite know how clear that is from an outside perspective so I thought I would just tuck that little tidbit of information in here.
> 
> If you enjoyed reading it, let me know, because as usual there is plenty more where that come from.


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